


Talk Nerdy To Me

by stileskolpath



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Biting, Derek Hale is a History Nerd, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, History References, Kissing, Library Sex, M/M, Nerd Derek Hale, Prompt Fill, Rough Kissing, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Student Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stileskolpath/pseuds/stileskolpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' textbooks have been going missing...</p>
<p>... And are coming back with highlights and notes and shit.</p>
<p>He suspects a werewolf is to blame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk Nerdy To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sourirs (sourirpourmoi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourirpourmoi/gifts).



> Prompt fill for [Sourirs](http://sourirs.tumblr.com) because she wanted history nerd!Derek. So logically I had to oblige.
> 
> She asked: "LISTEN TO ME. i started thinking about hoechlin and his derek headcanons and all i could think about was derek as a history major and just like derek just having a major history boner for EVERYTHING and he goes to visit stiles at college or something and theyre in the library and stiles is like WTF because derek is grinning and smling and talking to a group of students. and then stiles finds out their all history majors and now im sad because der didnt get to go to college. ugh."

So someone was stealing Stiles’ textbooks.

Well, borrowing them. Same difference, really. It was still a crime. Made even worse by the fact that they came back with passages highlighted, and notes scrawled all slantily in the margins. It hadn’t really become all that apparent until his Ancient Rome textbook had mysteriously reappeared on its shelf the other day after a week-long absence. Stiles thumbed through it to find the same offending highlighted lines and quick notes written between the printed words.

"Scott?" he asked.

His best friend didn’t even look up from his laptop, doing homework at the long wooden table that dominated the whole windowed-side of the loft. “What, Stiles?”

"Have you been borrowing my history books?"

Scott shot him a look over the lid that was half incredulous, half disgust before turning it back to his work. “No. Ew. Why would I read your  _history_  textbooks? I can’t stand that stuff.”

Stiles gave him a suspicious squint. Of the four people that shared the loft, he was the only other one that was also taking classes the Beacon Hills U. “Well if it’s not you, then who would it be?” Stiles asked, genuinely curious. He had a thing about his books.

Scott shrugged dismissively. “Why don’t you ask Isaac, or Derek?”

Stiles turned back to stuffing the offending textbook into his backpack. “Nah, it wouldn’t be Derek. He has like three books in this place, and all of them look older than this town. And I’ve never seen him pick up any one of them. And Isaac, the only things I’ve seen him read are Macy’s winter wear catalogs.”

Scott cocked his head like the adorable, naive puppy that he was. Stiles clarified. “You know, because of all the scarves…” He drew an imaginary strip of cashmere around his neck with a finger for emphasis. Scott just more confused. “Whatever, man, it’s funny.” He waved a hand at his best friend dismissively.

"Well come to think of it, I think I  _did_  see Derek borrow one of your books the other day. Maybe you should ask him about it on one of your super-awesome library dates, or something.” Stiles whipped a balled-up piece of paper he found in the bottom of his bag at his best friend.

"Hey, you are not allowed to comment on my romantic life, Mr. I’ve-spent-more-time-hanging-out-on-Allison’s-roof-than-out-on-actual-dates-with-her."

"To be fair," Scott retorted, "I thought her dad would have  _actually_  try to kill me if he found me in her room.”

"Whatever," Stiles argued back. "Point is, you have no authority on that matter. And not that it is any of your concern, but I can’t help it if Derek always seems to come visit me at school when I need to study for stuff."

"Considering what you both smell like when you come home from your little ‘ _dates_ ’,” Scott mocked, with air-quotes and everything, “I highly doubt that any studying gets done at all.”

Stiles whipped another trash-ball at him before he grabbed his bag and headed out the door. He had class later, and was going to meet Derek at the library for a little bit before he went.

—

When Stiles found him, Derek had been kind of stretched out on the only partially-shaded bench outside the campus library, looking entirely too comfortable for being the book-thief that he was. That is, until Stiles had snapped him out of his concentration and he had flinched upright in a vain attempt to hide his criminal ways, flicking the book onto the ground with a start.

"So it  _is_  you,” Stiles said, a little more menacingly than he had meant to. “You  _are_  the one who’s been stealing my textbooks.”

Derek tried to give him his best  _no-shit-really_  stare as he looked up from Stiles’ US Naval History textbook, open against the ground from when it flew off of Derek’s lap. He failed miserably, and ended up blushing in embarrassment as he bent to pick it up. Stiles chuckled. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to-" Stiles held up a hand.

"It’s okay, dude," Stiles shrugged. "I should have known anyway. The handwritten notes you left in the margins have your serial-killer slant to them."

Derek leveled a scowl at Stiles as he dog-eared his page and closed the tome with an audible thunk. “Serial-killer slant?” He asked, seriousness of the question totally negated by the blotchy pink flush still clinging to his cheeks.

"Yes," Stiles confirmed. "When we started dating and you left me those love-notes everywhere, for a while I thought I was being wooed by the zodiac killer or something." Derek blushed even harder, this time it travelled all the way up to the tips of his ears. He hung his head, probably trying to find a way to will himself to burst into flames right there.

Stiles shook his head and pulled his stupidly self-conscious boyfriend to his feet as they walked towards the entrance of the library. He changed the subject. “So remind me why you are stealing my history books again?” They passed through the front doors and headed to the staircase, making for the usually-deserted top floor.

Derek sighed as they walked up the steps and gave a shrug, his leather jacket crinkling at the motion. “I dunno, I just  _like_ reading about that stuff.”

"What stuff?" Stiles asked as they climbed.

Derek shrugged. “History. All of it. It’s fascinating to me.”

"Right, but what stuff specifically?"

Derek was silent for a second, as if trying to choose a favorite. “I really like military history. This book,” he waggled the ponderously large volume on the history of US naval warfare he had been reading earlier, “it’s really cool. I was just reading about the battle of Leyte Gulf, and how it was one of the turning points in the Second World War for the US.”

Stiles was about to ask a follow-up question, something along the lines of ‘holy crap how are you farther along in my textbook than I am?’ when Derek continued.

"But I also like Ancient Greek history too. Well, not all of it. The Peloponnesian War is by far the most interesting. Once you get into the Hellenic and Hellenization eras, it all becomes too Romanesque for me to really be interested anymore." Stiles blinked in stunned silence as Derek continued to wax historical about how Alexander’s conquests reminded him too much of Augustus’s, and how he didn’t really like either despite a lot of them being the basis for modern military tactics and strategy.

When they arrived at Stiles' usual desk on the predictably deserted top floor of the library and settled in, Derek finally came up for air. Stiles was busy plugging in his laptop when he asked absentmindedly, “how do you know all this stuff?”

Derek shrugged next to him as he re-opened Stiles’ book. “Well I just really loved my history classes in high school, and when I was in New York and Laura and I didn’t have a lot of money, I would go to the library and read whatever I found interesting.” He paused and sighed, painful memories probably pulling their way to the surface. “I always wanted to go to college and study history, maybe even teach it one day. I was even saving up when Laura left for home again.” Derek sighed. “When she asked me to come back too, I kind of fell out of the habit for a couple years,” he shrugged. “Then when we started dating, and you left books around the loft, I started reading again.” His fingers toyed with the edges of the page he had marked, flipping the dog ear back and forth absentmindedly as his cheeks blushed again. “At first it was because I wanted to impress you. But then I actually started to get back into it. Then it sort of… spiraled from there.”

"Wait, back it up. You were trying to impress  _me_?” Stiles guffawed. “Me?  _Stiles?_  The one-hundred forty-seven pound flailing mass of idiocy and fragile bones, whose only notable qualities are sarcasm and the ability to telepathically commune with Scott?”

Derek shook his head. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You were really intimidating to me when we first started going out. I was just trying to keep up.” His eyes betrayed the fear that had once sat behind them, that he could never keep anyone close for long, no matter how much he cared about them. Stiles knew him well enough at this point to catch it.

Stiles was rendered speechless. He opened his mouth, but no words would actually leave his throat. He could feel his face grow hot under the weight of Derek’s words. For the past five years that they had been dating, Stiles always felt like he was the one trying to climb up to Derek’s level. Like he always had to prove himself. Granted, Derek never made it seem like that, or even implied it, but Stiles felt it nonetheless.

And to hear that it was really the other way around, he was just… yeah, speechless was the best way to describe it. His heart did a little flutter in his chest, like some kind of excited bird, at the thought of Derek reading his old textbooks, paging through them at home in bed while Stiles was in class, just so they’d have something to talk about.

In one fluid motion, he closed his laptop, probably a little too forcefully, and laced his fingers through Derek’s, pulling him to his feet, ignoring the stammered sounds of surprise the werewolf made as Stiles dragged him from their little alcove, toward one of the nearby stacks.

"Where are we going?" Derek asked, stumbling to keep up with Stiles’ purpose-driven pace. Stiles didn’t answer. He just found an appropriate shelf somewhere between the modern feminist literature and Asian economic systems, and pushed a surprised-looking Derek into it before crowding their hips together, curling into him until they were one solid arc, chests, hips, knees grinding and pushing into each other as he drove their mouths together. The kiss was desperate, hard, and yet there was a softness to it at the same time. Stiles felt Derek’s confused lips freeze for a second, before locking around his, fitting the way they always had since they had first kissed all those years ago. Warmth invaded his mouth along with Derek’s tongue, brushing past the inside of his upper lip tentatively, maddeningly. It spread down his throat, catching the breath in his lungs as his heart flickered mid-beat. He slid his hands around Derek’s lower back, rucking up the hem of his shirt to palm at the hot, muscular skin beneath it, and pulled them closer, impossibly enough. Derek’s mouth moved down his jaw to his neck, sucking bruises into the strip of muscle that trailed up from the crook of Stiles’ collarbone, a deep, heady hum vibrating in his throat as Stiles whispered his name over and over again, as if in prayer.

"Derek?" He got a soft, growling sound in acknowledgment. "I don’t care if you  _burn_  every single of my books, just don- oh  _fuuuck_ ,” Stiles keened as Derek nipped at his throat, “right there, oh- just don’t, whateveryoudo, don’t stop.” Derek growled quietly against Stiles’ skin as they ground together against the stack, inhaling sharply through his nose as his mouth traveled back to Stiles’ lips.

Stiles knew that Scott was going to have a field day with this one when they got home tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to check out the rest of my sterek-related stuff at [my blog](http://watchthewolvesrun.tumblr.com)


End file.
